


We Have Today

by aviatordame



Series: Reignite [1]
Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aviatordame/pseuds/aviatordame
Summary: 'Don't cry, princess.'[Zelda/Impa; set during AoC]
Relationships: Impa/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Reignite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119278
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	We Have Today

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during the scenario _All Hyrule, United_. Those blood moons, man.  
> I hope you enjoy. I was thinking about this a lot, and wanted to give it a go. Plus, these two deserve more stories.

Hyrule field is coated in blood; corpses littering the burnt grass. The skies a sinful red, the very picture of a furious Goddess, casting her wicked spell, tormenting the mere mortals whom try so pathetically hard to survive. No matter how diligently they fight, it appears fruitless as more and more of Calamity Ganon’s armies break through the stronghold, and every time, they get bigger, more powerful.

It is a cruel, repetitive war; as each minutes passes, more soldiers die.

They have been fighting nearly a day. Some of their allies have collapsed from exhaustion, others inevitably perished, but none have fled. They remain loyal to their princess, whom fights alongside them. After accessing her God-given abilities, the battle is easier; they can rely on her to help them win, but, as much as Princess Zelda gives it her all, it still is not enough.

Always, in the back of her mind, she knew they were all going to die.

She just didn’t expect it to happen this way.

Not when things finally appear to be looking up. Not when Goddess Hylia finally gifted her with this once dormant power. Zelda begins to wonder just how much their lives are planned; whether this is truly deliberate.

Whether they were always supposed to die, no matter what happened.

Does Goddess Hylia dangle Zelda’s victory before her, and then snatch it away only seconds afterwards?

By this point, Impa’s blade is beginning to blunt. Like the others, she is painted in blood, and she has no idea what of it is hers. All of their combat styles––especially hers, Link and Mipha’s––are so personal, it’s no surprise their work is messy; and these monsters _bleed_. They are angry, vicious, and relentless. She _hates_ them. They are revolting, ugly creatures; their entire purpose is to hunt and kill, and they will do so no matter how many times they are stabbed. These _monsters_ stay standing until their bodies are torn to pieces.

And, then, there are the Guardians.

They come at her in groups. It’s an unfair disadvantage, as she usually finds herself targeted by three at once. Sometimes more. To be able to dodge their beams is one thing, but to somehow retaliate is another. The adrenaline helps. Impa has trained herself her whole life for this sort of thing, except this–– _this is much worse_. This is the stuff of nightmares, but so focussed on every single movements she makes, Impa doesn’t have time to fear, to plead for help, to consider the possibility it will all be over soon.

She manages to knock two Guardians down at once, but a Moblin disturbs her landing as it whacks its club at her. A rib breaks. Maybe two. She can’t really tell. She even manages to accidentally cut her palm with her knife, which only angers her. What a stupid injury. Impa immediately stands, and, ignoring the blood streaming down her arm, slashes the Moblin’s belly, before aiming for its throat, just for good measure.

The familiar sound of a Guardian locking onto her diverts her attention.

A burst of light hits the Guardian square in the eye, sending it flying. Impa is still not quite accustomed to Princess Zelda’s abilities, but she is grateful for the helping hand. In fact, she was beginning to wonder whether the princess was all right. Nowadays, however, Zelda could not be more independent.

‘Stand down, Impa. I can do this,’ Zelda proclaims, immediately tackling the Guardian while it’s down. Fortunately, Zelda is able to attack from a distance, and the searing hot power which bursts from her hands and body destroys most that are in sight. However, their bigger enemies, such as Lynels and Guardians, are tricker to defeat.

Impa hears Zelda’s command, but disobeys. She has never abandoned her princess, and she isn’t about to anytime soon. Instead, Impa aids her princess, and with the Guardian now stunned in one place, she throws herself forward, landing a final blow to the great beast. Before Impa has met the ground, the Guardian implodes.

With a moment to catch her breath, Impa can finally appreciate her injuries. She hisses in pain, pressing a hand to her broken body. The adrenaline is beginning to shift. If they survive this, then Lady Mipha will be able to treat her wounds, as well as everybody else’s. But, that’s _if_. If they survive.

Zelda has come over, concerned. ‘How hurt are you?’

Not wanting her princess to worry, Impa manages to straighten, rolling her shoulders back. She smiles, pained. ‘I’ll be fine, Your Highness. Must have pulled a muscle or something.’ Zelda does not believe it, but there’s no time to debate this. Their tiny interval is over as enemies, although smaller, have turned their attention on them.

Naturally they mainly target Zelda, and Impa is thorough with her work, ensuring not only that the princess is safe, but that Zelda doesn’t exhaust herself. Zelda can’t really stop Impa from doing what she has done for years: protecting the princess. It’s almost instinctive now. A habit. That is her purpose, and even though Zelda may be a Goddess, Impa remains very conscious of their own mortality.

Yet, there is something so _thrilling_ about fighting alongside the woman who has always protected Zelda. To actually be equal, _finally_ , and help each other––despite everything going on around them, Zelda can’t help but smile. She feels an immense pride to aid Impa, to return the favour, and fight by her side.

They work together seamlessly. Zelda’s powers dominate, either draining the life out of their enemies or at least stunning them. Impa is given multiple advantages in the scenario, ensuring fatalities. The two of them are merciless, and they have to be. Zelda cannot wish for a better outcome, cannot wish there be peace in this moment, or they attempt a more gentler approach. This is how it is; this is war, and, God help her, she will fight until she _breaks_. It is the very least she can do.

Until, finally, their enemy begins to retreat.

Zelda gasps in relief, and chuckles, overwhelmed. Impa hasn’t responded to the changed situation, and when Zelda looks at her again, she’s almost disturbed by how exhausted her royal advisor has become. Impa has pushed herself too hard, her beautiful face masked in blood which doesn’t belong to her, shattered bones now beginning to cause internal damage, and her hand terribly sore and beginning to suffer infection.

This is what dying looks like. A mighty warrior, slowly decaying.

Eyes stinging, Zelda grabs a hold of her, just so Impa doesn’t have to carry all her weight. She _wants_ to hold her, wants to give back all Impa has done for her; this loyal servant, whom has kept her safe since she was a fourteen year old girl. Somebody she trusts so dearly. Somebody whom, she realises, knows her better than anybody. And Zelda would do anything, _anything_ , to keep Impa alive.

 _Anything_.

‘It’s okay, Impa. It’s over now. We’ll find Lady Mipha, and––’

Then Zelda hears a frustrated wail from an ally nearby. Panic twists her stomach.

‘No,’ she whispers, tears streaming down her dirt-ridden face, ‘It cannot be.’

Another blood moon.

 _Another_.

Dread fills her, and she watches helplessly as all the enemies they worked so hard to defeat are brought back to life. _Again_.

She thinks about everybody trying to help, all the Champions, Link, _Urbosa_ , her father; all the men and women putting their life on the line for their kingdom, for _her_.

Zelda tenses her jaw, and she has never felt more angry as she clings to Impa, whom has begun to prepare herself for the next round.

And Impa doesn’t complain. Not once.

Zelda’s heart pounds in her chest as Impa begins to move, grasping her blade which has fallen into the scarlet grass. Zelda watches her, and there’s focus in those eyes; this is her job; this is her duty. _Protect the princess_. That is her purpose, that is her life; she will fight these monsters forever, until she’s dead. There simply is no question.

It breaks Zelda’s heart that this may be her last chance to see Impa alive.

That they very well could die.

They _are_ going to die.

So, she grabs her hand, voice breaking as she commands, ‘I order you to survive.’

But Zelda can pray, wish and demand all she likes. Impa smiles at her. Of course, she will try her best, but they both know the reality set before them. ‘Always, until Her Highness is safe,’ Impa promises, ‘Don’t cry, princess.’

It’s hard not to. Zelda can see a Guardian approaching them through blurred vision.

And it’s almost like a dream when Impa squeezes her hand, smiles as if this is all just a bit of fun, and encourages her to step forward.

‘We have got this far. Why not go a little further?’

For Zelda, it is no longer just about Hyrule, but the woman before her. Zelda feels a rush of affection, an immense strength setting in her spine, and, over and over again, they fight. She fights for Hyrule, but for Impa also. Zelda fights so hard, she can _feel_ the energy within her beginning to dampen. Her soul slowly dying.

Like before, they work together. Like before, Zelda protects Impa, and Impa protects Zelda; and, for the first hour, it’s okay. They manage, it looks as if they might just win again, but, unlike Zelda, Impa isn’t anywhere close to that of a God. Because, eventually, the exhaustion delays her response time.

A Lynel catches her–– _just_.

The tip of its huge blade effortlessly tears through her leg. Impa tries her damned hardest not to allow the wound to defeat her, but with all else she is carrying, she is simply too human. Zelda sees it: how Impa just wasn’t fast enough, and the way she fell; the impact of the blade, cutting her body, and Zelda’s entire world crashes around her.

Something truly abnormal ignites in her heart, a shot of thunder to her form, and a scorched radiance circles her body; what bursts from her is nothing close to heavenly. A demonic terror, and the whole of Hyrule is cast in a horrific glow as Zelda slaughters not only the Lynel, but every enemy within sight. The energy flows out of her, and she’s barely aware of it; all she can think of, _all she can feel_ , is what she just witnessed.

It happens so quickly. Impa only managed to see the very end of it, the power emitting from Zelda was so blinding. Nobody should possess such force; Impa is almost _afraid_ of her. Then, Zelda gently descends to the ground, and the radiant aura slowly evaporates. Zelda still seems to glow as she manages to calm down, much to Impa’s relief.

Besides, whatever Zelda did, it could not have been more effective.

Their enemy begins to retreat again.

Zelda looks up, almost _daring_ the heavens above to threaten a blood moon. But, to her pleasant surprise, the skies slowly open, revealing a blue dawn, and no sight has ever appeared more beautiful to her. She exhales, shaking, and begins to step over to Impa, unsure whether to reach out for her, fall into her, cry; or thank her, because Impa stuck by her promise.

She drops to her knees, wishing she could tend to Impa’s wounds. They’re both shattered, bloody and dirty, eyes heavy; _smiling_. Zelda nearly laughs, because it’s over––for now, at the very least. But she will take whatever victory she can at the moment. Reaching out, she grabs at Impa, not too forceful lest she injure the poor woman more, but enough to make it clear just how _grateful_ , _relieved_ and _happy_ she is to still have her near.

‘Please,’ Zelda whispers, ‘Stay alive.’

Although Impa is human, she is stronger than most.

They both know she can survive this, just as all the other Champions have. But before Zelda focusses her attention on the rest of the world, she leans in just to kiss Impa’s mouth. It’s tender, wonderful, warm; divine enough in itself to restore at least a little life into her dear companion. Perhaps Zelda will blame the adrenaline later on, but nothing makes more sense in this moment than to kiss her.

Despite her wars, Impa’s lips are so soft; she _is_ soft. Almost vulnerable as Zelda moves in for one more; an inevitable act. Zelda kisses her as she has wanted to kiss her for months; and, it is here: surrounding by the fallen enemy, blood stained, half dead, and yet, neither have ever felt more alive.

The two help each other to their feet, flustered only slightly from the shared affection, but they manage to pretend otherwise when they join the others. The celebrations are brief while Mipha nurses the wounded, and the hour draws ever nearer for when they will have to face the Calamity Ganon.

 _At least for now_ , Zelda thinks, _I have you still._


End file.
